


i'll try to shake this soon

by obsessivelymoody



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21813682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessivelymoody/pseuds/obsessivelymoody
Summary: Dan takes a walk.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	i'll try to shake this soon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [phanworkschallenge](https://phanworkschallenge.tumblr.com/) advent!

It’s late when Dan shrugs his coat on. 

He pats his pockets as he quietly pads in socked feet down the stairs, feeling for his phone, wallet, and keys. Sliding on his shoes, he steps out of the flat, and before he knows it he’s coming out of the lift and onto the street. 

He goes in his usual direction, taking a left when the building door slams shut behind him. 

There’s no goal for tonight’s walk. Nothing aside from needing to get away, and needing to do _something_ to deal with the energy bubbling up in him. 

(Because he can’t let it fester.)

Sliding his hands into his pockets as he goes, Dan blows out a breath, watching it curl white and steamy with the cold, night air. 

A horn honks from behind him, and he feels around for his airpods, that awful, twisting feeling rearing up inside him again. 

(It’s guilt. But he doesn’t want to admit that to himself.)

He tries to walk off the feeling, but it makes his palms itch, dancing in tingles he can feel down in his toes. 

Sighing, trying to push off the increasing pressure building in his chest, he picks up his pace, turning into a Tesco. 

It’s overwhelming, all the bright fluorescents and colourful labels and noises that exist only within the liminal space a grocery store holds. 

He turns down the aisle with the tea, though, grabbing a peppermint blend from the shelf and marching back to where the tills are. 

(It gives him something to do. Even though they don’t need tea right now. Even though he knows there are a million other things he could be doing right now besides fucking about in a Tesco.)

A voice in the back of his mind, one not unlike his own, scolds him for not bringing his own bag. He picks up the first reusable one he sees on a stand nearby, not wanting to take plastic. It’s got apples on it, and Dan thinks he can spare the 99p for it. 

(Of course he can spare it. He could grab another nine bags from the stand and not think anything of it.)

The cashier fiddles with an earring—one of seemingly many in just the one ear—when it’s his turn, ringing him up with one hand. They sound bored, and Dan’s fast to pay. He rips the tags off the bag and puts the tea in when he’s done, tossing them into a bin when he gets back outside and slinging the bag over his shoulder. 

Everything is so much duller now that he’s left the store. It makes it easier to ignore the looming thoughts in his mind, to pretend like he’s taking a walk just for the sake of it. Because it’s good to get fresh air. Because it’s good to take the time to walk, especially after being cooped up in a stuffy flat all day. 

(Though their flat is hardly stuffy for two people. He could go sit in the empty one downstairs if he wanted to, even.)

Sometime later, Dan finds himself taking an even more familiar path. One he used to take years ago, all the time and often enough that Phil would know where to find him if he left without his phone. 

Four years ago, he posted a selfie on this street. It was with pride, with celebration. 

Nearly five years ago, he took a walk down here, head swimming with thoughts and deadlines he was sure he was going to get stuck in. But inspiration struck and he went home to write before it left him again. Phil had handed him a cup of tea that night, after he settled at the desk in his room.

It felt right then. And nothing feels right now. His head spins with second-guesses, with guilt and panic and longing. 

He longs for things to be different. Sometimes he longs for what he hopes to be, for the person he’d like to be. Sometimes it’s for _before_ , for the life that existed in a whirlwind of project after project, car after car, and plane after plane. For the constant that came with that, for knowing that at the end of it all, it’ll mean something. For not feeling stuck because there’s such a clear goal at the end of it. 

But now what does he do, when the goal has been more than reached? What does he do when he wants to change, but the change is so fucking terrifying he barely wants to admit it to himself, let alone Phil, let alone the constant sea of watchful eyes waiting for him?

And maybe there is no answer. Maybe that’s what he has to get used to. It feels wrong, to be as stuck at 28 as he was at 18 but in a completely different way. 

He’s luckier now. Happier now, overall. So maybe there’s no answer to make it stop, no perfect formula to make everything feel safe and right again. To make him stop wanting to disappear when nothing feels purposeful. 

So for now he’ll just continue on his path. Do what he needs, what _does_ feel right. 

Dan crosses the street. Next time he walks, he’ll take a right out of the flat.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Please kindly message me any glaring mistakes on tumblr :)
> 
> Title is from "Fine Line" by Harry Styles. 
> 
> You can like/reblog this on [tumblr](https://obsessivelymoody.tumblr.com/post/189694277977/ill-try-to-shake-this-soon-rating-g-word) if you want.


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